


Sometimes One Second is Enough

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [49]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anxiety, Can You Hear Me?, Deception, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Insomnia, Love Confessions, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anxiety was a hell of a self-producing drug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes One Second is Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #82: Can You Hear Me?

Some nights, laying next to Sherlock quiets the voices. In fact, most nights he can lay next to him, completely still, body heat permeating the bed, staring at that sleep-peaceful face. On those delightful evenings, he can shove all the chaos in his mind aside and just listen to him breathe, letting his mind haze over as he counted inhales and exhalations. 

But not tonight. Pillow over his face, crushed over his ears, he's biting down on his lip just to keep from _whimpering_. 

Too many thoughts. Worries. Anxiety was a hell of a self-producing drug. A constant din of noise in an otherwise silent room. Silent _flat_. It was three in the morning, most of the _sane_ people were asleep. _Well…_ Jim's eyes darted to Sherlock beside him, who appeared to be completely passed out, _And one less-than-sane… possibly._

"Sherlock, you awake?" Jim whispered, sidling up, front against the detective's back. 

Sherlock was _very_ awake, and could feel him close in. Feeling his breath come into closer proximity, tickling the back of his neck, he struggles to keep his functions relaxed. Mimicking sleep as well as he had been, but whenever Jim was so close, this was easier said than done, "Can you hear me?" 

He considers responding. Instead, he just focuses on keeping his breathing even. Deep, slow. 

"I love you." It's barely audible. But somehow, it fights away his overpowering panic. For a moment, things are alright, because he loves Sherlock. An indisputable truth, an anchor in the tumultuous squall. It's enough of a pause to let Jim's eyes fall shut. 

Oh yes, smirking covertly into the pillow, Sherlock can hear him. His light snores touch his ears, and Sherlock knows it's safe to let out a contented sigh. But Jim must never know. 

If he did, he might stop saying it.


End file.
